


Between Angels and Demons

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Demon Shane Madej, Friendship, Gen, Metafiction, POV Second Person, Protective Shane Madej
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A demon happens upon a peculiar being and his strange little charge.





	Between Angels and Demons

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a dream that I had, and can be interpreted as platonic!Shyan or otherwise.

You recline as they explore the house. They are nothing unusual – humans have loved to poke their noses into everything, even the most decrepit and forgotten places left behind by their ancestors, for centuries. A thump against the wall or a soft hush across their napes will send them scurrying back to the outside world, but it’s been months since anyone’s been here and you’re bored.

There’s two of them this time, both males. They chat between themselves, oblivious to your presence and the presence of the dozens of other occupants of this house watching idly. The taller of the two is carrying a camera and a clunky mechanical box. You tune into their conversation.

“–the spirit box here?” the taller one is saying, “I’m thinking we can put it near the staircase so I can film you guys going up.”

“Good idea, then we can edit in the living room and keep the box there overnight,” the shorter one replies, a tremor evident in his voice.

The shorter one catches your eye. He reeks of heavy anxiety and fear, pungent enough to make you wince. He’s looking around frantically like he’s expecting an attack at any moment, clutching a flimsy flashlight to his chest. As if that can truly ward off those who lurk in spaces like these.

None of that matters, though. What matters is that he’s encased in a translucent white cocoon woven by overlapping whorls and twists of ethereal threads that glow faintly in the darkness.

You sit up, curiosity piqued. How had you not even noticed them when he entered the house? The sigils are complicated and much too difficult for a mortal shaman or priest to even comprehend, let alone create. They move in complex unison around him, dips and grooves that read of  _guard_ -  _fight_ -  _shield_ -  _heal_ and countless fierce warnings.

It can’t be holy water or blessed artifacts – those merely reflect the essence of protection, strong only to a degree. This man is completely shielded by active, pulsating markers of defense. One touch, and you’ll disintegrate into nothingness.

You begin to rise, fascinated. A man blessed with powerful protection, marked by greater beings to ward off danger. Now _that_ is a rare sight.

Then you feel it – a sharp sting of alarm like a brand bellied by a choking, encompassing heaviness. It is an ancient presence, one that makes you frantically search the room while the other occupants flee the site entirely.

To your confusion, another human enters the room. He’s taller than the other two, lanky and carefree. His soul is a boring blend of grayish-white like most humans. He’s completely ordinary.

“What are you two up to?” he asks with a small laugh. “I thought you’d have set up by now!”

“Listen, we’re in the middle of planning something very important–” the shorter one says. You notice he steps closer to the newcomer, the way his heartbeat slows in relaxation.

“If this is about the spirit box, didn’t we agree to keep it with us since we’re testing the new model?”

“Did we?”

“Oh for goodness sake – go set up and I’ll check out the kitchen to see if we have running water.”

The shorter man huffs but turns and leaves the room with the man holding the camera and box, leaving the tallest man alone with you.

The moment the door shuts behind them, he straightens up, still looking at their direction. It’s an unnatural stillness, one that makes you rise from your perch.

He looks at you and you cannot overcome the urge to shrink back.

His pupils gleam red, burning against the backdrop of unhallow black irises, bottomless and unfathomable, red like fire, red not unlike fresh blood, and for the first time in centuries, you feel fear, visceral and real.

He doesn’t bother approaching you. He doesn’t need to. He can tear you apart effortlessly, scatter your essence into the void between worlds with a snap of his fingers, and you both know it.

“He’s blessed by angels,” you manage to say.

He grins, pearly teeth flashing. “And by demons.”

You eye him warily. “Hardly just a demon.”

He shrugs, a smooth careless motion. “Not that it matters.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“Only if you were to try.”

“And if I were?” you venture to say because in all your endless years you’ve never encountered such a peculiar being and his little charge before.

Scarlet red flares like the sun going supernova. “You won’t be the first to try, and you won’t be the last.”

You back away as the air shivers, ice cold and sharp. The other humans complain loudly in the other room at the drop in temperature, but their noises are nothing compared to captive screams emanating from those red, red eyes.

“Just kidding,” you say.

He raises a brow. The temperature fluctuates back to normal and you carefully sit back down. He looks at you like how someone looks at a particularly colorful insect.

“So, the human,” you start.

“You have to be more specific, there’s over seven billion of them on the planet,” he says lightly.

“I’ve never seen one protected by both heaven and hell,” you say.

He shrugs again, such a human thing for something that doesn’t belong to this world. Then again, neither do you. “You’re young. One pops up every now and then.”

“What is it like?”

“I’m not an  _incubus_ ,” he says mock-incredulously.

You twitch. “That’s  _not_ what I meant.”

He waves a lazy hand. “It’s interesting, to say the least. Humans can be such silly creatures, but where would we be without them?”

“In paradise,” you answer honestly.

He gives you a small smirk. “Let them have paradise. I don’t need it.”

A voice echoes from the other room: “Shane! Where are you? Did you get possessed?”

“Relax Ryan,” he calls back, amused. “I’m just checking the place out.” He meets your stare and nods once before departing the room with a casual skip to his step. The door locks with a definite click.

You leave the house, not willing to outstay your welcome, slipping into the spaces and jagged cracks that bleed between this world and those beyond. Because if there’s one thing you know, it’s that you don’t want to cross paths with someone guarded by both angels and demons.


End file.
